


Give Me Shelter

by ElDiablito_SF



Series: Lightbringer Verse [4]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: A Triad is slowly forming, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Feels, M/M, Surprise!BDSM, so many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 14:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10878342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/pseuds/ElDiablito_SF
Summary: Silver is really So Extra™, Flint needs all the help he can get reining him in.  Luckily Thomas is there to lend a helping hand.





	Give Me Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> This is the porn that's been incubating in my brain the entire time I was sick. It's not my fault that they're like this: I am but a humble vessel for all kinds of Grossness™.

The sound of the crutch hitting the floorboards summoned James’ mind out of the open book in his lap, as he sat in the library. His eyes lifted from the page and encountered Thomas, whose feet too had been in James’ lap, but the sound of Silver’s arrival had made him quick to remove them. The cat, more annoyed than anyone by the sudden shifting of the landscape, disdainfully betook himself underneath the sitting couch.

“We have got to get better at this,” Thomas sighed, closing his own book. “We can’t get startled like two boys caught in the friary every time your other - _he_ \- enters the room.”

“This is all new…” James muttered.

“To _him_ , perhaps, not to us,” Thomas pointed out, his eyes beaming with kindness as he reached out to stroke his thumb over James’ hand.

“To me as well,” James sighed and averted his eyes. 

_To me as well._ He could not quite bring himself to say her name to Thomas; John Silver was not, could never be Miranda. She had loved them both with a selfless devotion that had been their safe harbor and their rock. Silver’s love… there was nothing selfless or safe in it. And yet, James found himself falling into that deep well only too willingly.

“We’ll talk later,” Thomas whispered as the sounds of Silver’s distinctive gait approached the library.

“Spring has sprung, gentlemen,” Silver announced leaning against the doorframe with a sheepish look upon his unbearably handsome face. “You should not stay cooped up indoors, my Lord. I just saw, with my own eyes, a skein of geese flying northerly. Who knows what else you might see were you to venture out?”

“Or who might see us,” James responded with a frown and Silver laughed, fingers twitching as if to brush a stray lock of bright auburn off his brow.

Silver cleared his throat and proceeded haltingly. “I… um...I got you a gift.” He took a hastily wrapped packet out of his overcoat pocket and placed it on the side table in between James and Thomas. “Both of you,” he added, almost shyly. 

“Well, that’s… unexpected,” Thomas said, reaching out to unwrap the packaging and weighing it in his hands with the look of a connoisseur. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you were the last person in this household I expected to bring me a book.”

“You don’t have this one in your library,” Silver replied, shifting and directing his eyes towards James, who sat pressed into the couch contemplating whether it was an opportune time to kiss him.

“Incredible!” Thomas exclaimed. “However did you find it?”

“It’s not the same one,” Silver spoke, still looking only at James. “But you can always inscribe it and give it to him again. If you like.”

James tore his eyes away to glance over towards Thomas and the book he held in his delighted hands. He knew before he ever laid eyes on it what it would be: Marcus Aurelius’ _Meditations_.

“I thought I’d turned half of England over trying to find another copy of this,” Thomas spoke, caressing the pages as gently as if he were touching a newborn babe. 

“I’m sure your mistake was merely in going through all the proper channels,” Silver smiled, his face partially obscured by his curls.

“Thank you, John!” Thomas was out of his arm chair and pulling Silver in the most awkward hug James has seen since he personally had to hug Billy Bones after his return from the marine abyss.

With his eyes still fixed on James, Silver muttered a quiet, “You’re welcome.” James had never seen them stand so closely before and he could not help but thaw a bit at the sight of Silver’s head tucked so neatly under Thomas’ chin. “I’ll… be in my room then,” Silver quickly extricated himself and shuffled off, out the library doors. 

“You’ve never called him ‘John’ before,” James said to Thomas when they were left alone.

“He’s never brought me a romantic gift like this before,” Thomas grinned, pressing the book to his chest. “Of course, I am under no illusion that he did not procure this entirely for your benefit…”

“Thomas, this is all incredibly difficult for him,” James started to say, when Thomas sat down beside him on the couch and took his hand. The warmth of his touch lent James courage and he squeezed his fingers around Thomas’, thinking carefully about what he would say next. “We have to be honest with each other about what’s going on here.”

“You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you,” Thomas said, squeezing James’ hand in return. “We’ve been together for some while now, James, but I have not forgotten what that feels like.”

***

After the first time they made love, James awoke in the darkness to the insistent pressure of Silver’s lips against his. The kisses themselves were soft and gentle, nipping at his lips with increasing frequency, while Silver’s body attempted to burrow deeper into James’ arms. He shifted to better accommodate Silver’s need, pulling him in, opening his body up so that Silver could touch him as much as he wanted. 

“I love you,” a soft whisper against James’ mouth and Silver’s hand coming up to stroke over the ridge of his cheekbone. “I love you,” a more insistent statement, followed by Silver’s probing tongue, licking in to taste James as he lay there, still sated and warm from the unexpected bliss they had shared hours earlier. “I love you,” Silver repeated again, his eyes seeking James’ out even in the darkness of the room. “It seems so many times I have cried it into the wind. I love you. Now that I've had you inside me, I don't think I could survive losing you again.” Silver’s body pressed up into James’ embrace, clinging to him with shuddering desperation. “Please... don't ask me to leave.”

James only tightened his arms around the other man, inhaling the warm scent of his skin, his senses full of the essence of John Silver. Now that he had had him in his mouth, that he had touched and tasted and smelled all of him, now that he knew how Silver felt from the very inside, he was overcome by the need to imprint it upon his memory again and again. 

“John,” he brushed Silver’s curls from his face only to find that his hand came back wet. He pressed closer, kissing Silver’s mouth, his cheeks, his very eyelids, tasting the unexpected moisture and the salt of his tears. 

“Please, I can’t lose you again,” words so small and broken and pressed into James’ neck like a secret.

“You had made your choice back then… You chose Madi.”

“An _impossible_ choice,” Silver had choked out, his hand still stroking over James’ brow and the curve of his cheek in the dark. “For which I have paid dearly. In the end, she had chosen _you_ and I was left with nothing.” He pressed in again, kissing James with growing desperation. His hands tentatively mapped out the landscape of James’ chest, lingering over old scars. Silver slid down and pressed his lips to those old wounds, as if trying to drink his fill of the past he could never recapture.

“I never wanted that for you. I wanted the two of you to be happy,” James attempted to say but the feel of Silver’s mouth trailing soft kisses over gnarled old scars clouded his head and made his tongue heavy as an anvil. “I did my best to make her happy,” he added, chasing a phantom of a past fear.

Silver’s nails dug deeply into his back while he continued to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his perspiring skin, not daring to mark but attempting to taste all of James.

“I did not know it could be like this,” Silver whispered into his flesh. “I need you, Captain. Oh god, I need you so badly, it terrifies me.” 

James pulled on his hair again, baring his long, beautiful throat so he could sink his teeth into the sinews there. The need to claim Silver as he lay there, gorgeously naked and spouting words of madness, was overwhelming. Silver’s throat vibrated with soft moans beneath the onslaught of James’ teeth and lips. He sucked the tender skin above the collarbone into his mouth, willing it to bruise. 

“There were very few days when I did not think of you,” James breathed against Silver’s flushed skin. “And now you’re here, and you’re as beautiful as ever, and you can ask anything of me - whatever I have I would give, I could deny you nothing…”

“I _need_ you,” Silver repeated, those insane words from the previous night that had them tripping and tumbling over one another. His thighs were open again, and he was pulling James on top of his body, clawing at the skin of his arms, fingers digging underneath the bones of his shoulderblades. “I love you,” a soft exhale, a guttural cry. He was still stretched and pliant and James entered him again with very little effort, burying himself inside the heat of that body that beat underneath his like an ancient war drum.

They lay side by side after, James’ thumb wiping at the moisture that kept escaping from Silver’s burning eyes. Lips swollen from overuse, limbs heavy with completion.

“You are so beautiful, Captain,” Silver had said. “You look younger, even. So beautiful. I could not ever look my fill.”

“Hush, you’re such a foolish boy.”

“I wouldn’t have let you go,” Silver whimpered, burrowing into James’ neck again. “If we had been this too… I would never have let you go to Thomas. I tore my own heart in half, Captain. I cannot do it again.”

“John, please, fuck’s sakes,” James muttered into the wild curls, still trying to soothe his lover by enveloping him with his entire body. How could his heart still beat for this beautiful, selfish monster? “Believe it or not, I know this about you. But, please, don’t talk like this.”

“I can’t… James… can’t be parted from you again.”

“Jesus. Please, don’t cry anymore.”

It was like asking the sea to relent. John Silver had ever been a force of nature.

James could not remember the last time either one of them had actually eaten anything. Perhaps nourishment would accomplish what his arms and words alone seemed incapable of achieving. He wanted nothing more in the world than to comfort the man in his arms, and yet, when had he ever said exactly the right thing to John Silver? His love had never been enough before - would it suffice now, removed of the war and of the ghosts of their past?

“Please,” James begged again, pressing their lips together, “Please, just tell me what you need. What can I say or do right now to make it better?”

“Tell me you forgive me,” Silver exhaled into James’ mouth. “I should have trusted you better. I should have loved you better. The world only made sense when we were together; nothing works when we are apart.”

“We shan’t be apart again,” James growled, his arms squeezing around Silver’s ribcage that only heaved in his grasp in desperate gasps. “This I promise you.”

***

James had only gone up to thank Silver for the book. He was planning on wrapping his arms around the other man and whispering filthy promises into his ear of how he would thank him properly when they were at sea again. That was all he was going to do, except when he opened the door to Silver’s room, he’d found him lying under the covers in his own bed.

“John, it’s the middle of the day,” Flint sat down upon the mattress and placed his hand against Silver’s forehead. “Are you feeling well?”

Silver’s eyes blinked open and then his lips spread into an almost childlike grin. “Lie down next to me.” He’d shifted, lifting the covers. Underneath, James observed with some trepidation that John had removed all his clothes but his loose, long shirt.

“Oh no, we’re not doing that right now.”

“Just for a minute.” Silver’s fingers dug into the flesh of James’ thigh.

“It would never be just for a minute,” James protested weakly.

“I was good,” Silver whispered with a playful pout. “I deserve my reward for being good.”

“Jesus Christ,” James rubbed his face with both his hands. He had no resolve. He was at his weakest like this.

“It’s really warm under the covers,” Silver purred, hand stroking up James’ thigh.

“I know it’s really warm under the covers. _You_ are under the bloody covers.”

“James…” 

He was so weak, especially when Silver imbued his voice with such anguish. “Fine, just for a minute.” James kicked off his shoes and crawled underneath the down blanket with Silver. “You’re such a horror.”

“Am I really so bad?” Silver’s arms snaked around James’ neck, his body pressed closer, his lips stopped any sounds James might have otherwise made. His lips had become so familiar now. As had his kisses. The way Silver dragged his upper teeth over James’ lower lip. The way he’d drag his tongue over the ligaments of James’ neck and press his lips into the hollow. _Just like that_. “Am I truly a horror?”

“No,” James replied, breathlessly. “But you’re terrible at following rules and observing boundaries.”

“These boundaries are arbitrary,” Silver whined, shoving his hips forward so that James had no choice but to feel his cock swelling against his own groin. “Why can’t I have you when I want you? When you want me?” Silver’s hand had already located the bulge inside James’ trousers; denying him had never been an option. “Am I just here until the day Thomas decides to toss me out on my arse and so long, John Silver?”

“No, that would never happen,” James protested, brushing Silver’s thick curls away from his brow so that he could look into his eyes. “John, you’re here because I want you to be here.”

“Then show me.”

“John…”

“ _Show me_. God, I want you so bad. I need you, James. Please don’t ask me to pretend like I don’t care when I care so fucking much.”

James shivered. It had been easy to know what to do before, when it was just the two of them. When Silver would get like this, when his _need_ could easily be drowned out by James’ love. When he could take him and thrust into him until he became too tired, too weak, too fucked-out for uncertainty and fear.

“When do _I_ get to make up for all the lost time?” Silver purred and rubbed his face all over James’ neck like some cat in heat. “Why must it only be at sea? This isn’t some fairy tale where you would lose your powers if you fucked me on land. You’ve fucked me on land before. James, you’ve fucked me in this very bed. _Fuck_ , James, I need you to fucking fuck me.”

James was kissing him to shut him up, but it was apparently having the opposite effect. “The rules…” he moaned pathetically in between kisses.

Then, Silver pushed him away. “Fine. Go get Thomas.”

“What?”

“You need his permission, don’t you? Go get him. He can supervise. Participate. Whatever he wants. I don’t care. Only come back here and _fuck_ me, or I’m going to die.”

“I’m going to point out that you’re being _slightly_ melodramatic.”

“Don’t test me, Captain.”

***

John Silver wasn't an idiot. He was very well aware of who was in charge in that manor, and it certainly was not him. It was Thomas fucking Hamilton, whose love for James had burned like a beacon and kept him alive all those long years of confinement and adversity and separation. Against all odds. Thomas and the cockroaches, Silver suspected, would survive the Apocalypse.

He shivered beneath the covers, his hand running down his body to encircle his own cock. How many nights had he lain there, in the attic room of Max’s tavern in Nassau, thinking of what could never be. Only he had been wrong, and James was the living, breathing proof of it. Now, he could reach out and touch him, taste him, feel him inside his own body. Why the fuck did he need Thomas Hamilton's permission? 

He knew why. Because he did not truly deserve James. Not after all he'd done. Not after the choices he'd made. James had been right: he was a horror. 

“Can't leave you alone for two minutes,” James’ voice drew Silver back from his thoughts. “Did you already get off?”

“No,” Silver whispered, his heart speeding up in anticipation as he drew his hand from under the covers and reached out for James. “I wanted you.” His eyes shifted past James, to find Thomas leaning against the doorframe with a look of great amusement upon his generally smug face. “Do I get to have you?” Silver asked cautiously. 

“You do,” Thomas replied. “Lucky boy.” He crossed Silver's room and placed himself calmly into a chair in the corner, across from the bed. In his hands, Silver recognized the book he had just gifted him. Thomas flipped the volume open in his lap and ostensibly began to read. 

Silver closed his eyes and took a deep, composing breath while the bed dipped underneath James’ weight. “Do you still want this?” James’ breath tickled his ears, followed by his lips gently tracing first the lobe and then the sensitive skin over the shell. It was improbable that one person could make him burn like this, and yet, here he was. Eleanor Guthrie had been lucky enough to die in Flint’s arms, he’d heard. He could think of no more desirable fate.

“ _God_ yes,” he replied, blindly groping at the expanse of James’ broad back, wrapping his one good leg around that sturdy waist, like an oak tree he intended to climb. 

James, in the meanwhile, wasted no time pulling Silver’s loose shirt over his head, leaving it tangled around his arms as he pressed him down into the bed. Silver had never been kissed this way before, with such care and deadly intent. Did he know, his captain, of the days and nights spent upon that hill, talking to the ocean? Did he know that he had become Silver’s other phantom limb? That Silver could still feel him there, on the fringes of his soul, that he would turn around sometimes and smile at the sound of his imagined voice. The nights he had awoken choking on bile and tears. Did he even care? Or had he been sheltered from it, buttressed by Thomas Hamilton’s love and his bulwark of stoicism?

“Come back to me,” James’ voice poured into Silver’s ear, thick with lust. 

“I’m here,” Silver replied on instinct, extricating his arms from the shirt and quickly divesting James of his own.

A smile, as soft and warm as a spring ray of sunlight. “Are you, darling?” James’ arms lifting his thighs to allow him easier access.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” Silver affirmed, choking on a moan that escaped as James began to open him up with gentle strokes of his slicked, long fingers.

James kissed him again, first on the lips, then just under the chin. “Relax.” Tension melted from Silver’s muscles, his jaw unclenched, he let go of the breath he had not realized he’d been holding. James’ fingers slid in more easily, reaching upwards, curling to send shocks of violent pleasure up Silver’s arched spine.

In the corner of the room, Thomas flipped a page, and Silver shut his eyes again. “God, put your cock in me already.”

“Christ, you’re so fucking needy,” James chuckled against his neck.

He was. Yet he had no words to express exactly what it was that he needed so badly. If he could not be assured of James’ forgiveness, or any permanence of his affection, at least then he should be properly punished for his transgressions. But the suffocating heat of James’ body was no kind of punishment at all. Silver _needed_ , he needed to feel James’ hands on him, in a way that would leave him sore and wrecked and unable to sit or walk properly for days. He wanted to feel claimed and owned and entirely out of his own body.

“Hurt me,” he whispered into James’ open mouth. A deep frown was his only reply. “Please, I need you to hurt me.”

James shook his head. “No… no, I don’t want to…”

“You don’t understand, I need you to… I want you to. Please. Hit me.”

James shifted over him, his engorged cock leaving a wet trail over the tender inside of Silver’s unfolded thigh. “Why?”

“I need it,” was all Silver could utter, annoyed at his own sudden lack of eloquence. He had talked men into walking merrily towards their own deaths before, so why could he not talk his lover into giving him what he so desperately yearned for?

The sound of a book being shut echoed from the corner of the room and Silver grit his teeth.

“Oh, for the love of all, James, give the boy what he needs.”

James shifted, looking from Silver to Thomas and back again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Thomas pronounced with a sigh and rose from the chair. His eyes locked with Silver’s long enough for an unspoken understanding to pass between them. “Carry on, I’ll be right back. Just… don’t fuck him yet.”

“Don’t fuck him!” James spat out with indignation. His cock had a few things to say on that account as well, as it rose, flushed and proud, pointing from his groin straight at Silver’s face. 

Silver took advantage of this moment of discombobulation to topple James onto the bed. There, glowing and glistening like a sea god, he lay splayed out for Silver’s admiration, which he did not fail to communicate immediately by pressing his lips to James’ chest, then his abdomen, sliding lower so that he could press open mouthed kisses into the curve of his hip, into the soft skin of his inner thigh, so close to his groin. James had been the only man Silver had ever kissed like this. 

Silver moaned softly into the warm skin beneath his lips. James’ hand sank into his curls, fingers carding through strands of hair until they held Silver in a tight grip. “Please, James, I’m yours, make me yours.” Silver’s lips wrapped around James’ cock, greedily sucking him down, careful not to use his teeth. He had no finesse when it came to this type of thing, but he did not care for panache or style, all he wanted was to make James scream his name.

“Fuck… _John_.” Just like that. Silver grinned around the head of James’ cock, tonguing at the slit where he could taste the evidence of his lover’s growing arousal.

“All right,” Thomas’ voice made Silver’s tongue halt in its purpose. “Get him back down, James.” Silver looked back over his shoulder to see the Lord of the manor holding a riding crop in his hand. His own palm shot up to wipe drool from his lower lip. “Are you going to do this or shall I?”

“I’m… not…” 

Poor James. Silver’s heart swelled with all the more love for him even while his thighs gave way and he planted himself back down onto the mattress, burying his face in the pillow, and sticking his ass up in the air in what he hoped was a clear enough invitation.

“He’ll be fine,” Thomas pronounced calmly. “He loves this. See?”

The riding crop gave a quick snap against one of Silver’s sitz bones and he emitted a soft moan into the pillow. How very ironic this was, that it was his lover’s life-mate who had understood what his body craved better than either James or Silver himself. He shifted, lifting his ass up again, presenting it to the whip.

“Jesus,” James whispered next to him just as another lash of the crop landed across his other cheek. Silver idly wondered if it would leave bruises and then James’ hand was drawing across the burning flesh, soothing it with soft touches where the crop had stung.

“Don’t…” Silver begged. “Let him… please.”

The sting of the crop returned, first on one cheek, then on the other. Thomas was clearly in no hurry, selecting his patterns seemingly at random, landing a stroke across a thigh here, aiming one right across the top of his ass there. Silver fisted at the sheets under him, biting the pillow to keep himself from crying out in ecstasy. _This_ was what he’d needed. This, and the grounding feel of James’ hand on the back of his neck, stroking over his back, whispering soft words of desire into his ear.

“I love you, James,” was all Silver replied and the sting of the crop landed right across his exposed hole, making him howl in unexpected pain.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Silver shook his head, his curls falling loose and wild across the pillow.

“What do you want more: the crop or his cock?”

Silver swayed on his knees and elbows, his head spinning, his ass thrust high up into the air until another lash landed across his reddened skin.

“Cock… or crop?” 

Silver groaned. He wanted _both_. Oh god, how was it that this was happening to him? Why was he cursed to always be making impossible choices? The next lash landed across his hole again, sending shocks of pleasure-pain through his entire body. His cock, ramrod hard and leaking, stabbed angrily into the sheets.

“Fucking hell, James, just fuck the devil out of him. He’s wearing me out.”

The crop fell down into the sheets and then James’ teeth closed over the juncture between Silver’s neck and shoulder, tearing another loud groan from him. “ _Yesssss_.” His ass was aflame, his entire body sang with delicious intoxication. His hole was tender and swollen beneath James’ fingers as he made sure to coat him in oil again. “God! Yes… please… thank you.”

The weight of James against his back was welcome and dear, as was the feeling of his thick cock finally sliding into Silver, up into his very burning core. He clenched down on the swollen flesh with possessive desperation. Everywhere that skin touched abused skin was tender and raw, and Silver wanted James’ fingers and hips and thighs to be pressing into him like this forever, so that each time could be magnified by the sweet sting of the underlying pain. He felt free. He felt forgiven.

James had rolled them both on their side to get the pressure off Silver’s knees and rode him with long, practiced thrusts of a man accustomed to taking what he wants and Silver shuddered in his arms, letting his head fall back against James’ shoulder as he fucked up and into him.

“You feel so good,” Silver muttered, picking up one of James’ hands and bringing it to his lips as the thrusts picked up in pace behind him.

“Unbelievable,” Silver heard Thomas’ voice. “When the hell did you already finish?”

Silver glanced down at his own cock, which hung at half-mast over his thighs that were indeed already covered in his own seed. The warmth spreading throughout his body and lulling him to sleep must have been the afterglow. He reached back and sank his fingers into the fleshy upper part of James’ tight ass.

“Come on, Captain, take whatever you want.”

“John…” James’ teeth worried the back of his neck again. It had been James’ favorite place to mark him: where Thomas would not easily see. Well, now he had been marked all over. He looked forward to watching those welts age. “Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

“Use me… come inside me.”

“I love you,” James choked out. It had not been the response Silver had expected, nevertheless, he found his cock giving a valiant jolt in response. “I love you,” James repeated, and Silver felt a warm stickiness spread down between his trembling thighs.

He was shivering, but James’ hands were traveling in long caresses across his naked body, radiating heat down to his bones. He clung to James, gasping for air, not finding the right words, only leaning back into the trail of kisses along the nape of his neck.

The bed dipped again, causing Silver to open his eyes in an unfocused haze.

“Look at me, John.” Slowly, Silver’s eyes focused on two dark points of slate: Thomas Hamilton’s irises. “You know you’re welcome here. Neither one of us is ever going to ask you to leave.”

Speechlessly, Silver reached out and wrapped his arms around Thomas’ neck. The two bodies around him pushed forward, cocooning him in a twine of limbs.

“I’m ordering a bigger bed,” Thomas murmured softly into Silver’s hair.

“Sounds like a great plan, darling,” James sighed contentedly into the back of Silver’s neck, his hands pressed protectively over Silver’s breastbone.

He couldn’t wait to hear what the neighbors will say next about the great eccentric that was Lord Thomas Hamilton, who was rumored, among other things, to be an asylum escapee. “Thank you, Thomas,” Silver echoed, his limbs heavy and lax.

“Don’t worry,” he heard Thomas murmur over his head, “we’ll take care of him together.” James nodded against the back of his skull and Silver found himself smiling as he drifted off into a much needed slumber between the ramparts of their bodies.


End file.
